


Attack of the Space Slugs

by imma_redshirt



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Coco Locos Fluff Off, Don't ask me what happened, F/M, Gen, Modern AU, so this was supposed to be fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 22:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17252510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imma_redshirt/pseuds/imma_redshirt
Summary: They may be surrounded, but Coco's not about to let the Space Slugs steal her Papá away.(In which a young Rivera stays up past her bedtime, and imaginations run wild.)





	Attack of the Space Slugs

**Author's Note:**

> For the Coco Locos Fluff-Off contest.
> 
> Did I make it before midnight??
> 
> This didn't end up being as fluffy as I'd hoped. Also I wrote it in a couple of hours, and it hasn't been edited at all, so I apologize for all of it.
> 
> Modern AU. Coco's about 7 here.
> 
> Prompt used was "You did what!?"

Héctor couldn’t sleep.

That nervous excitement he always experienced before leaving on trips was keeping him up. He could hardly stay still under the covers, but he tried so Imelda wouldn’t be bothered. All he wanted to do was get up and pace around, maybe take the guitar outside to play a bit, but he needed sleep. If he didn’t sleep tonight, he’d have to sleep on the ride to the city, and he did not look forward to trying to sleep in Ernesto’s ’07 sedan. The thing was louder than a dying tractor.

But that wasn’t all, he thought, turning in bed. There was more on his mind that kept him from sleeping.

Over an hour ago he and Imelda had tucked Coco into bed, and after accepting a kiss goodnight on her brow from Héctor, Coco had gripped his hand and said in a voice more serious than any child should ever know, “I will never forget you, Papá, no matter how long you’re gone. OK?”

He’d felt his heart drop through the floor at that.

He’d been gone on trips with Ernesto before, but the longest of those trips had lasted a week, and his daughter knew this upcoming trip was going to be much longer.

Héctor would be gone for 45 days. 45 days touring the country, side by side with Ernesto, singing for cheering crowds and judgmental producers and longtime Youtube fans. 45 days away from Santa Cecilia and his family. 45 days returning to cold hotel rooms and curling up alone in narrow beds to sleep while Ernesto snored away in an adjacent bed.

He’d promised Coco they would Skype every night before bed and almost every morning before she went off to school, and she had seemed excited at that. But Héctor couldn’t get over the fact that seeing his wife and child’s faces on the small screen of his phone or busted laptop was a far cry from being able to be near enough to hug.

It was going to be tough. They’d planned the trip for weeks, but it didn’t lessen the blow of being away for so long.

Héctor shut his eyes and tried to ignore the thoughts that had bugged him for days. But almost immediately he sat up, pushed the blanket off his legs, and switched on his bedside lamp.

The rest of the room was dark, but with the soft light he could see his suitcase and duffle bag sitting by the door. His guitar case was propped up by the dresser he shared with his wife.

If he couldn’t sleep, the least he could do was triple-check he’d packed everything.

Glancing at Imelda, who was laying on her side and facing away from him, Héctor began to carefully move off the bed. He and Imelda and begun the night hugging, whispering to each other of the plans for the next day, but some time during that sleepless hour, she had turned away from him.

When his foot touched the floor, Imelda shifted until she was facing him, seemingly as wide awake as he was.

“Still can’t sleep, Héctor?”

“You’ve been awake this whole time?” Héctor asked, incredulous as he sat back against the headboard instead of leaving the bed.

“Your thoughts are so loud, I can practically hear them,” Imelda said. She sat up next to him and sighed when he took her hand to trace each finger with a feather light touch. “You’re still thinking about Coco.”

“She sounded so sad, Imelda,” Héctor said without meeting her eyes.

“And you know why,” Imelda said. “You’re going to be gone for over a month. How do you expect her to react?”

He knew his trip was going to leave Coco sad until he returned, but what was he supposed to do? He and Imelda had shared this same conversation many times before. It always left him feeling guilty. He couldn’t cancel the trip, not now.

Grimacing, Héctor considered suggesting they watch _Y Tu Mamá Tabien_ until they fell asleep—anything other than continue the conversation—but at that moment their door opened, and Coco marched through.

Héctor and Imelda both glanced over and stared. They were speechless.

Sometime during the night, their daughter had donned her pink winter coat, the boots with sunflowers that her tíos had bought for her birthday, Imelda’s severe looking sunglasses, and the violet helmet she used when she rode her bike with Héctor around their home. Her Princess Elena calculator was taped to the coat pocket.

For a moment all three of them stared silently at each other. Then Coco adjusted the sunglasses, strode forward, grabbed the corner of the quilt Imelda had folded at the foot of the bed, and began to gather it into her arms.

“Coco?” Imelda asked, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“I need this,” Coco said with a grunt, and with a final tug, the whole quilt fell into her arms.  
“Is it cold in your room?” Héctor asked.

“No,” Coco said. “I need to reinforce my Space Slug Resistant shelter!”

Héctor and Imelda glanced at each other, and Héctor knew Imelda had come to the same realization. Three nights ago, Oscar and Felipe had stayed with Coco while her parents left for a night out. When they returned, they found the three younger Riveras fast asleep in the living room under a meticulously built pillow fort, and the old 80s B movie “Captain Rodriguez and the Attack of the Space Slugs!!!” still playing on Felipe’s laptop.

But Coco had never mentioned anything about the movie until now.

“Do you need more pillows?” Héctor asked, as Coco resorted to rolling the quilt into a ball on the floor.

“No,” Coco said, lifting the quilt again. “This is good.”

With some effort, she hefted the quilt in one arm and taped the calculator on her jacket. It beeped.

She announced with authority as if speaking into a radio, “I have the material! Returning now!” She paused and saluted her parents. “The fleet thanks you for your contribution to the galactic war. Farewell and stay safe!”

With that she turned on her heel and, without another word, marched out the door.

There was a moment of silence as Héctor and Imelda stared at the empty doorway before Héctor hummed and grinned apologetically at Imelda.

“Well,” he said. “We can finish this conversation, or we can go see what that was all about.”

“And you’re going to choose the latter, aren’t you,” Imelda said in a flat voice.

“Ay, _amor,_ you know me so well,” Héctor said, just before leaning over to kiss her cheek and then rolling out of bed.

Imelda watched him leave their room with an arched eyebrow, arms crossed, and Héctor swore he could feel her eyes burning holes into his shoulder blades just before he shut the door behind him.

* * *

Héctor had been gone for almost an hour when Imelda headed out to look for him. It shouldn't have taken that long to finish whatever game Coco was playing and send her back to bed.  
Either the man had let himself be tricked into playing with her, or he was avoiding finishing the conversation that _he_ had started.

Or both, probably.

As Imelda neared Coco’s bedroom, she heard her family’s laughter coming from behind the closed door, and huffed.

It was both. Definitely both. 

“Look out, there’s a sand storm coming!” Said Coco’s voice, and Imelda put her ear to the door with a frown. “ _Whoosh whoosh!_ It’s here! Seal all the doors with every pillow you can find!”

“Right away, Captain Rivera!” Héctor said, and there was a shuffling sound, and Coco’s little voice saying, “The storm will take everything down if we don’t work fast Papá, and then we’ll have no shelter from _them_ , and we’ll both die horrible deaths--”

“Ah, Coco--” Héctor said quickly, possibly coming to the same conclusion as Imelda--Coco’s make-believe game was becoming a little violent.

“One already bit you, Papá! It’s not long before the eggs crawl through your blood system and plant themselves in your brain!”

“O-kay,” Héctor said with some authority (if it wasn’t for the humor in his voice.) “Why don’t we play something else. What about unicorn wranglers or rainbow--”

“Unicorn wranglers? _Pobrecito,_ they’re already clouding your mind,” Coco said solemnly, and Imelda found herself stifling a bemused chortle with her hand. “Don’t worry Papá, as long as the storm doesn’t damage our supply of anti-venom, you’ll be ok.”

“Well, that’s good,” Héctor said, and finally Imelda opened the door. It sounded like a good place to end their game.

When she stepped into the room, she paused and raised her eyebrows at the sight that greeted her. Coco’s favorite blanket had been stretched across wicker chairs and the corners of her dresser, the baby blue material pockmarked by little lilac stars and planets and decorated with strings of little lights. A fluffed pillow was leaning against what looked like a Coco sized entry way right in front of Imelda, with Coco’s Rey and Finn figurines standing on either side like guards. Coco and Héctor’s shadows were visible from within the fort, as if some source of light glowed softly in the center and casted their shadows against the blanket.  
Imelda quietly shut the door behind her, then went to stand near the opening, arms crossed, as she listened to Coco make more “ _whoosh whoosh_ ” sounds.

“The wind’s too strong, the storm is taking down the fort!” Coco screamed, and Héctor gasped. Discreetly, he gripped the bottom of the blanket and began to shake it, as if it really was billowing in some strong wind. 

“Oh no!” Coco yelled. “The anti-venom! It’s _gone!_ The wind took it!”

“Oh nooo! What do we do, Captain?” Héctor asked in one of the most dramatic voices Imelda had ever heard him use. “We won’t make it without the anti-venom! We’re doomed!”

Imelda watched his shadow throw an arm against his forehead in a display of ultimate despair.  
“I won’t let you succumb to the venom, Papá!” Coco said. “We’ll make it through this. Remember, we’re Riveras! We’re tough!”

“You’re right _mijita,_ but—oh no—” Héctor gasped. “Oh _no--_ ”

“What? What is it?” Coco asked in a near whisper.

“ _Mira_ \--outside. There’s a shadow,” Héctor said. His shadow pointed right at Imelda and Imelda planted her fists on her hips, “Somebody’s here. We’re not alone!”

Coco gasped. Her shadow scrambled into Héctor’s lap. “We’re surrounded! Shhh, they can’t know we’re here!”

“It’s too late,” Imelda said in a booming voice to two surprised gasps. She squared her shoulders and held her hands up like claws, casting a monstrous shadow against the wall of lilac stars.

Her first instinct had been to end the game and send Coco to bed. It was late, there was school tomorrow, and Héctor wasn’t done packing for his trip. She was sure Héctor and Coco had expected her to do the same. But Héctor had already involved her in the imaginary adventure by pointing her out, and as strict as she knew she should be, she was not about to send her daughter to bed in tears.

Besides, this was going to be the last night they spent together as a family for many nights to come. She might as well join in on whatever fun there was to be had before it was all put to an end.

“You can’t escape _me,_ ” she growled and stomped forward. “ _Soy el cucuy,_ and I can sniff out little daughters who should be in bed and are _not!_ ”

“No, Mamá!” Coco said insistently, “We’re playing Space Slugs!”

Imelda paused and silently promised punishment upon her brothers and their awful 80s B movies. “Ah.”

“ _Yeah,_ Imelda, remember?” Héctor said. “Space Slugs.”

Imelda rolled her eyes. She could very clearly picture Héctor’s teasing expression, even if she couldn’t see it. “ _Pues,_ I am the Space Slug of Sleep, and I smell two humans who should be sleeping!”

After one giant step forward, she grabbed the ballerina print pillow covering the fort entrance and tossed it aside. Coco screamed and Héctor _shrieked_ and Imelda ducked her head under the star strewn roof and roared.

Inside the fort, Héctor was seated on a purple pillow with the top of his mussed hair brushing the bed sheet stretched overhead. In his lap, Coco was still dressed in her strange outfit, and she pointed one gloved finger at Imelda and yelled, “ _We have a breach!_ ”

“ _Que está despierto!_ ” Imelda snarled, flexing her spread fingers like grasping claws, and suddenly Coco rolled out of her Papá’s lap and ran at Imelda with her hands in the air as if shielding Héctor from the intruder. Shrieking with laughter, she ran until Imelda scooped her up into her arms and cuddled her close.

“Caught you!” Imelda said, tickling Coco’s sides. “You should be asleep, _chiquita!_ ”

“Noo, nooo Mamá!” Coco giggled. She kicked her legs until Imelda, kneeling, finally set her down. Gasping around her giggling, Coco took hold of Imelda’s hand and pointed at her laughing father. “We can’t sleep! Papá’s been infected by Space Slugs!”

“Good,” Imelda growled. “He’s _mine_ to control. He’ll wash dishes for one thousand years—”

“ _Noooo!_ ” Coco and Héctor cried in unison.

“ _Sí!_ ”

“But Mamá, you’re _not_ a _slug,_ ” Coco said with a stomp of her foot. Imelda frowned at her sudden anger until Coco tugged her further into the fort, pulling her to sit cross legged next to Héctor. “You’re Doctor Imelda, and you have to help cure Papá, ok?”

“Oh?” Imelda asked. She raised an eyebrow at Héctor, who grinned at her and nudged her in the side with his elbow.

“ _Ándale_ , Imelda, have some fun.”

“It’s not fun,” Coco said gravely. “This is a dire situation, Papá. You won’t make it through the night if we can’t help you!”

Héctor and Imelda exchanged glances. Their daughter had apparently taken the old movie very seriously. Imelda would consider banning her brothers from watching those badly filmed movies ever again if she wasn’t sure they’d find a way around it.

“Of course,” Héctor said placatingly, “ _Lo siento, mijita._ ”

“We have to be serious,” Coco said, tapping the palm of her hand with each word. “Doctor Imelda, can you help him?”

“You just had to go and get yourself infected, didn’t you,” Imelda said to Héctor, who shrugged and gave her an apologetic smile with puppy dog eyes. 

“I’m _sorry,_ Doctor Imelda.”

Coco was watching them intently, all joy from the game apparently gone from her mind.

“Very well,” Imelda said, and Coco gave a relieved sigh. “I will help him. So how do we get the slugs out of his blood?”

“We lost all our anti-venom in the dust storm,” Coco said. She rubbed her chin and sighed. “We have one choice left. We must operate.” She gave Héctor a pitying look and patted his knee. “I’m sorry, Papá. But Doctor Imelda is the best in the whole entire universe. If anyone can save you, it’s her.”

“I believe it,” Héctor said, and winked at Imelda.

“We can’t leave those mean slug jerks in you any longer!” Coco said, and Imelda felt some relief that her brothers had at least showed Coco the PG-13 version of the movie to keep her from repeating curses from the original dialogue. “The longer they’re in you, the more bad ideas they give you!”

“ _Dios mio!_ I’ll do what I can, Captain. We don’t want bad ideas,” Imelda said, with Héctor nodding in agreement. In the movie, the “bad ideas” the slugs had planted in the lost space crew had been badly filmed hallucinations that led to ridiculous deaths. 

“I’ll get you the specialized tools to cut his arm open and take the slugs and their eggs out,” Coco said. Héctor looked alarmed at the gory imagery. “Because if we don’t do it now, the slugs might make him go away forever!”

“I would never leave you forever,” Héctor said, looking softly at his daughter. He was gripping his hands together, suddenly uncomfortable with the make-believe dangers of the game, and Imelda watched silently as Coco stomped her foot and clenched her fists.

“They’re already making you leave with Tío Ernesto! Again! Who knows what they’ll do after that!” She shook her head and looked at Imelda. “He’s not in his right brain. He’s been wandering the Slug Desert for 100 years all by himself. He’s losing his mind. We have to help him.” She looked at Héctor and took a deep breath. “I’ll always remember you Papá, but I won’t let them take you forever.”

Héctor looked over Coco’s braided hair at Imelda, uncertain and lost. Imelda didn’t know what to say. Coco had never reacted this way to Héctor traveling. And she’d already told him there was nothing he could do to placate her unless he canceled the trip. What comfort could Imelda offer when their daughter was clearly more distraught than either of them had imagined?

“Coco,” Héctor said slowly, “I’m coming home, _mija._ I’m not--”

At that moment, Héctor’s phone began to ring from his pocket, and with a _tsk_ he pulled it out to silence it--

\--and Coco snatched it out of his hand. 

Shuffling out of reach, Coco answered before either of her parents could stop her. “Captain Rivera speaking! This better be important!”

There a second of silence on the other end, then Ernesto’s voice said, “ _Captain Coco, I need to speak to your Papá._ ”

“He’s dying,” Coco said matter-of-factly. 

“ _Qué molestia,_ ” Ernesto said. “ _Can I speak to him before he does?_ ”

“No! We’re going to operate!”

“Coco,” Héctor said, and tried to reach for the phone, but Coco grabbed a pillow up to fend him off.

“ _Well, when you’re done, tell him I’m a minute away,_ ” Ernesto’s voice said. “ _We need to speak before--_ ”

“ _’ta bueno,_ bye,” Coco said, and hung up before Ernesto could finish. She lowered the pillow and met Imelda’s eyes. “We need to operate. _Now._ ”

“ _Mijita,_ ” Imelda said. “Maybe we should talk.”

“No time! We need to get those slugs out!”

“Coco,” Héctor said again, and his next words were drowned out by the rumble of an angry engine roaring down the road outside.

Coco gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide. She looked at her parents and said in a loud whisper, “It’s the Slug King.”

“No, mija, it’s Tío Ernesto,” Héctor said with a frown. 

Imelda have him an irritated look. Just what did Ernesto need to say at one in the morning? And did his car really need to be so loud?

With a sigh, Héctor shrugged and began to crawl out of the fort. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, Papá!” Coco gasped. “We need to operate!”

“We’ll operate later,” Imelda said, picking Coco up to bring her close. “As soon as we can. Right now, Papá needs to tell the Slug King to go away.”

“I promise I’ll be back,” Héctor said. He saluted her and winked. “I _promise,_ Captain.”

Pursing her lips, Coco have him a return salute, and Héctor ducked out of the fort without another word.

“Godspeed, Papá,” Coco said solemnly, and Imelda promised herself she’d have a very serious talk with her brothers about their awful movies before they even had a chance to leave their room the next morning.

* * *

The King Slug had her Papá. Coco just knew it.

He’d been gone too long. Coco didn’t know exactly how long, but it felt like a really long time, and Mamá already looked sleepy. She wasn’t even keeping up with Coco in sneaking through the front door to find Papá. 

Still clad in her Captain outfit, Coco gestured sharply at Mamá to keep as silent as possible. Mamá nodded, holding her helmet (a large bucket Coco had dug out of her closet) steady over her braids, and followed Coco through the entryway.

Coco knew they were walking through their home. But in her imagination, they were also walking through the Slug Desert, where Papá had wandered all alone and got bitten by slugs. They had to be careful, or they’d get bitten too, and her whole family would wander apart from each other for a billion years.

Coco wouldn’t let that happen. No way. Not to her familia.

She could hear voices coming from the sitting room. Angry voices. She wondered if the King Slug was there. She’d heard it growling angrily outside their home before Papá had disappeared. 

The sitting room was right around the corner. Flattening herself against the wall, and motioning for Mamá to do the same, Coco very carefully peeked around the edge.

“You did _what?!_ ”

“Héctor--”

“Without asking me first!”

“Listen to me--”

That was Papá and Tío Ernesto. Yelling at each other. It sounded like they had been arguing forever. Coco saw Papá walking back and forth and running a hand through his messy hair, and Tío Ernesto waving a hand at him as he talked. With a worried frown, Coco looked up at Mamá. She looked angry and confused, listening to the voices without looking around the corner.

“Two more months, and that’s all,” Tío Ernesto said, like he was trying to calm Papá down. “It won’t even feel that long-- _mira,_ we can visit as often as we want once we get paid--”

“I don’t want to just visit my family,” Papá said. “I shouldn’t have to visit them! _Por Dios,_ Nesto, I can’t be away three months!”

Coco’s heart hurt. Away for three months? That was too long. Papá was going away for too long. Why would he do that?

Except, Coco knew why. She’d known from the very beginning.

The slugs were taking hold of Papá.

Narrowing her eyes, she looked around the corner again and saw something angry in Tío Ernesto’s glare.

It was the King Slug. And it had taken control of Tío Ernesto already.

Now it wanted Papá.

Coco took a deep breath. She was in her home, she knew that, but her imagination turned the comfortable place into the hot, dusty plains of the Slug Desert. The sun was beating down on her. Her Mamá was leaning back against a giant boulder, frowning at the red alien sky, her gloved hands clenched at her sides. Around the boulder, Papá was trapped in a gulley, his hair full of sand and dirt, his soldier’s gear torn and beaten, and in front of him his old friend looked at him with the King Slug’s glittering silver eyes.

“So they visit you!” Ernesto said. “Héctor, if we keep to this contract, we’ll make enough to fly them out every other weekend. Luxury hotels, expensive food, only the best. And we’ll have the same every day. We just need to--”

“Ernesto,” Papá said, sounding sad and angry at the same time. “I _can’t_. I can do the first month, but the next two? No.”

Tío Ernesto had a look in his eyes that Coco didn’t like. “I need your songs, Héctor. I need _you_ there with me.” He paused and stepped closer to Papá, holding his hands out. “We’re this close. Only three months, and we’ll be famous. We’ll achieve our dreams, _hermanito._ ”

Papá was quiet, looking at the ground, frowning. Coco pursed her lips. Papá couldn’t possibly be thinking of doing it! The King Slug couldn’t take him away like this!

With a smile, Tío Ernesto thumped a hand on Papá’s shoulder. “I bought our favorite tequila for the trip. A few shots and all our worries will be gone.”

Papá bit his lip. Coco’s heart fell. 

She was going to lose him forever.

The King Slug was winning. The Bad Ideas were winning. 

With a huff, Coco clenched her fist. No. No, she wouldn’t let it end like this. Maybe it was too late for Tío Ernesto. But it wasn’t for Papá. She was Captain Rivera, and like the captain from the movie, she was going to protect her crew!

She replayed the best scene in her mind. In the movie, the captain had taken her weapon from her belt. In Coco’s case, she removed one boot.

_Ready._

The movie captain had pointed the weapon at the King Slug, yelling and running. But Coco just lifted her boot over her head and narrowed her eyes at Tío Ernesto’s forehead.

_Aim._

And then, with tears in her eyes, the movie captain had fired lasers into the King Slug’s gaping maw.

Coco tightened her grip on the boot. She lifted it high over her head, and swung.

_Fire._

The boot flew through the air. And like a missle, it hit it’s target dead center.

She’d heard Tío Ernesto curse before, but never like this. The word tore from his throat when the boot hit him between the eyes and his head knocked back. The boot fell, and he slapped a hand to his face, while Papá stared in shock.

Coco couldn’t hold herself back anymore. With a yell, she ran around the corner and leaped into Papá’s arms. 

“You can’t go!” She sobbed. She didn’t know when she had started crying. “Don’t let the slugs take you! You can’t! You _can’t!_ ”

She was sobbing too hard to talk. Her throat hurt. She pressed her face into Papá’s shirt and held him so tight she thought she would break his neck. He was holding her tight, patting her back, but nothing would calm her down, not if he left.

There was silence. And then, Papá said, “You need to go home, Ernesto.”

Tío Ernesto said slowly, “And we’ll leave tomorrow?”

Papá’s hand soothed down Coco’s hair. “I don’t think so. Not now.”

Tío Ernesto sounded angry when he spoke, like the King Slug was talking through him, “You can’t be serious!”

“He is very serious,” Mamá’s voice said from nearby. “Making contracts without him, Ernesto, you--”

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Papá said. “ _Por favor,_ Nesto.”

Tío Ernesto was quiet. He’d made Papá angry, and he was angry too, but Coco didn’t care. He wasn’t making Papá leave.

“ _Bueno._ ” Tío Ernesto sounded farther away. “I’ll call you. But this is a mistake, Héctor.”

“Maybe,” Papá said. Silence again, then footsteps, and the sound of the front door slamming shut.

“Coco,” Papá said, softly, and Coco sniffled. “Mija.”

“I don’t want to play Space Slugs anymore,” Coco said. She was tired. Her head hurt. She was also hungry. Crying too a lot of energy. “Can we watch a movie? _Por favor?_ ”  
Mamá and Papá looked at each other for a long time. Until Papá smiled and ruffled her hair. “Of course. What movie do you want to see?”

“Not from Tío Oscar or Tío Felipe’s old movies,” Mamá ordered, and Coco thought next time _she_ should be captain. 

“Ninja Turtles!” Coco said. “No! Zootopia! Wait--Princess and the Frog--”

“You have until I make popcorn to decide,” Mamá said, walking to the kitchen, and Coco went through her entire movie collection in her head, ignoring the roar of the King Slug outside as it moved farther and farther from their home.

* * *

They weren’t in the desert anymore. It wasn’t hot and dusty. They were in their home, and it was warm and cozy, and the pillow fort glowed softly around them.

The King Slug and Tío Ernesto’s Bad Ideas were far away.

Coco plucked the last of the popcorn from the bowl and tossed them into her mouth. On the laptop screen, Stitch was saving Lilo, and Coco sipped at her mug of warm atole.

On either side of her, Mamá and Papá slept peacefully, cushioned by Coco’s favorite pillows and blankets. Papá was snoring. Usually it made Coco giggle, but tonight she was just glad to hear it.

Papá wasn’t leaving. Not for a while, at least. The King Slug hadn’t won.

Captain Rivera had won.

Smirking, triumphant, Coco snuggled back against her orange pillow and set her mug down. She knew her parents wouldn’t send her to school tomorrow, since they had all gone to sleep so late, and she knew Papá wasn’t going away for _three months._

It had been tough, but she had definitely won. She’d even done better than the movie captain! The movie captain had lost four of her crew. And Coco? She hadn’t lost anyone.

...except for Tío Ernesto.

Well. She tapped her chin. She’d have to save him some day, too. Get rid of the King Slug forever and free her Papá’s friend. Somehow. One day.

But sometimes you just had to be glad for the people you did save. And she was glad she’d saved Papá.

She was really sleepy. Pulling her blanket up to her chin, Coco shut her eyes and listened to the end of the movie playing. 

She loved her Papá’s songs, but for once she was glad they weren’t singing _Remember Me_ before Papá left on a trip.

Warm, with both her parents close, Captain Rivera fell asleep, listening to the snoring and the movie and knowing Mamá and Papá were safe at home.

(And one day, Tío Ernesto would be safe, too.)


End file.
